Dietleib once came unexpectedly on a visit to Master Hildebrand at his
castle of Garden. He looked sadder than of old, and returned the
master’s greeting without an answering smile. Hildebrand inquired the
cause of his sadness, and he replied that he had a sweet and wise
sister named Künhild, who had kept house for him in Styria. One day,
when she was dancing with other maidens in a green meadow, and he
looking on, she suddenly vanished from the circle, and no one knew what
had become of her. “Since then,” he continued, “I have learnt from a
magician that it was the dwarf king Laurin that hid her under a cap of
darkness, and carried her off to his hollow mountain. This mountain is
in Tyrol, where the dwarf has also a wonderful Rose-garden. Now, good
master, I have come to you for advice. How can I free my sister from
the power of the goblin?”
“It is a ticklish matter,” said Hildebrand, “and may cost many a good
life. I will go with you to Bern, to see Dietrich and our other
comrades, and then we can agree in council what is the best plan to
pursue. For the dwarf is powerful, not only because of the extent of
his empire, but from his knowledge of magic.”
When the heroes heard what had brought Hildebrand and Dietleib to Bern,
Wolfhart spoke first, and said that he would adventure himself alone
upon the quest, fetch home the maiden safe and sound, and bring the
royal mannikin to Bern bound to his saddle-bow. Dietleib then asked
Hildebrand if he knew the way to the Rose-garden. He replied that he
did, but that Laurin watched over the garden himself, and exacted the
left foot and right hand of any one who was bold enough to venture
within its bounds, and spoil the roses.
“He cannot exact this tribute,” said Wittich, “unless he gets the
better of the warrior in fair fight.”
“Well then,” added the king, “we will not touch the lovely flowers. All
we want is to save our friend’s sister from the hands of the dwarf, and
that is a labour beseeming a warrior.”
The heroes all swore to do no hurt to the garden, and then Hildebrand
consented to be their guide. The adventurers were Hildebrand, Dietrich,
Dietleib, Wittich, and Wolfhart.
Their road led them northward among the wild mountains, and over
crevasses, ice, and snow. It was a perilous way they trod, but they
recked nothing of fatigue or danger, for their hearts beat high with
hope. At length they reached the garden: a lovely place, where spring
reigned eternally, making it a flowery oasis in a wintry desert. The
heroes feasted their eyes on the beautiful sight, and felt as though
they had reached the gates of paradise.
Wolfhart was the first to break the spell: setting spurs to his horse,
he called to his comrades to follow, and galloped towards the garden.
His mad career was soon checked by an iron door with golden letters
inscribed on it. He tried to break open the door, but in vain; his
comrades came to his aid, and the door was at last beaten in by the
four strong men. The garden was still defended by a golden thread, such
as used to surround the palaces of the Ases in the olden time. The
warriors trod down the thread, and then, in spite of Hildebrand’s
warnings, began to pluck the roses and trample the garden. Dietrich did
not join in the work of destruction, but stood apart under a linden
tree.
Suddenly Hildebrand called out, “Draw your swords! Here comes the
master of the garden.”
They all looked up, and saw something bright advancing rapidly towards
them. Soon they were able to distinguish the form of a horseman riding
a steed that was swift as the wind. He was small of stature, and
habited in a complete suit of armour. His helmet was of specially
beautiful workmanship, and was further adorned with a diadem of jewels,
in the midst of which a carbuncle blazed like a sun. On beholding the
damage that had just been done, he drew rein, and exclaimed angrily:
“What harm have I ever done you, robbers as you are, that you should
thus destroy my roses? If you had aught against me, why did you not
send me a challenge like honourable men? You must now expiate your
crime by each giving me his right hand and left foot.”
“If you are King Laurin,” answered Dietrich, “we do indeed owe you
reparation, and will pay you a fine in gold; but we cannot afford to
lose our right hands, for we require them to wield our swords; and as
to our left feet, we could not well ride were we deprived of them.”
“He would be a coward who talked of paying any fine except in blows,”
cried Wolfhart; “and I am determined to dash that hop-o’-my-thumb,
together with the cat he is riding, against the cliffs over yonder, and
then his bones will break into such tiny pieces that even his
grasshopper subjects can never collect them.”
Upon this Laurin answered in words of defiance, and the combat with
Wolfhart began, only to end in the latter’s overthrow the moment he
felt the touch of the dwarf’s spear. Wittich was not more fortunate
than his friend, for he also was thrown from his saddle at the first
encounter.
Laurin sprang from his horse, drew out a large knife, and approached
the hero, who lay senseless on the ground. Dietrich sprang forward to
rescue his comrade.
“Do not venture the spear thrust, but close with him,” said Hildebrand
in a low voice. “Laurin has three magic charms of which you must
deprive him; and these are, a ring with the stone of victory on his
finger, a belt that gives him the strength of twelve men round his
waist, and in his pocket a cap of darkness, which makes him invisible
when he puts it on.”
After a long and fierce wrestle, Dietrich managed to get possession of
the ring, which he at once gave into the master’s charge. Again the
combat raged, neither side gaining any advantage. At last Dietrich
begged for a short truce, which Laurin granted.
The truce over, the two kings renewed the fight. Dietrich caught Laurin
by the belt, and at the same moment the latter clasped him round the
knees so tight that he fell backwards. The violence of his fall broke
the belt he was holding, and it slipped from his hand. Hildebrand then
rushed forward and caught it before the dwarf could pick it up. No
sooner was this done than Laurin went out of sight. Dietrich still felt
the blows he gave, but could not see him. Filled with a berserkir rage
at his own powerlessness, he forgot the pain of his wounds; he flung
away both sword and spear, sprang like a tiger in the direction in
which he heard the whistling of the invisible sword, and seized his
adversary for the third time. He tore away the cap of darkness, and
Laurin stood before him praying for peace.
“I shall first cut off your right hand and left foot, and then your
head, and after that you may have peace,” cried the angered hero,
setting off in pursuit of the dwarf, who now took to his heels.
“Save me, Dietleib, my dear brother-in-law,” cried Laurin, running up
to that warrior; “your sister is my queen.”
Dietleib swung the little creature on horseback before him, and
galloped away into the wood. There he set him down, and told him to
hide himself until the king’s anger was abated.
Coming back to the place of combat, the warrior found Dietrich on
horseback, and as furious as before.
“I must have either the dwarf’s head or yours,” cried Dietrich.
In another moment their swords were flashing; a second fight would have
begun had not Hildebrand held back the king by main force, while
Wittich did the same to Dietleib. After a little they succeeded in
making peace between the angry men, and also in gaining grace for the
dwarfs. Later still the warriors might have been seen in friendly
converse with each other and with Laurin, who was then and there
admitted as one of Dietrich’s comrades.
This point settled, the dwarf proposed to show them the wonders of his
hollow mountain, saying that Dietleib should then give his sister to
him as wife, with the usual ceremonies.
“It is the old law,” answered the hero of Steierland, “that when a
maiden has been carried away from her home and is recovered by her
friends, she should have free choice given her either to remain with
her husband, or return to her people. Are you willing that it should be
so in this case?”
“By all means,” said the dwarf. “Now let us go. Do you see that
snow-capped mountain? My palace is there—so to horse, that my eyes may
no longer be pained by seeing the wreck you have wrought in my garden.
The roses will bloom again in May.”
The journey to the snow-capped mountain was much longer than the
warriors had imagined. It lasted till noon of the following day. Below
the snow, they came to a meadow that was as beautiful as the
rose-garden. The air was filled with the perfume of flowers. Birds were
singing in the branches, and little dwarfs were to be seen hurrying to
and fro. They followed Laurin into the dark entrance of his underground
kingdom. The only one of their number who felt the least distrust was
Wittich, who had not forgotten the thrust of the dwarf king’s spear.